


A Fine Line Between Desire and Ruin

by AlexandraO



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Horcrux Hunting, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Post-War, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-18
Updated: 2018-08-18
Packaged: 2019-06-29 08:59:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15726177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexandraO/pseuds/AlexandraO
Summary: Harry and Hermione find comfort in each other after Ron abandons them on the Horcrux hunt, but after Ron comes back, it’s never spoken of again. The two teens learn the hard way that sometimes there is a possibility of a friendship falling into ruin when you give into your carnal desires.





	A Fine Line Between Desire and Ruin

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HaveCourageAndBeKind](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HaveCourageAndBeKind/gifts).



> This was written for HaveCourageAndBeKind for winning Harmony & Co's Harry Potter Birthday Drabble Challenge. She prompted the admins with '8th year' and this is what came of it! 
> 
> Big thanks to The Muse of Apollo for looking this over and helping me decide on a title!

__

_It had been weeks since Ron abandoned them in the middle of their Horcrux hunt. And every night, his heart was ripped apart hearing Hermione sob into her pillow. As he lay in his bed, he thought long and hard about his friendship with Ron and how it felt like they never were really friends at all. When things had gotten tough, Ron had always been the one to back out, and this time was no different._

 

_He didn’t expect Ron to come back and he almost hoped he wouldn’t. As if on cue, he heard the tell-tale signs that Hermione was once again pressing her face into her pillow trying to suppress her sobs._

 

_Not able to take another night of their same routine (Hermione crying and Harry pretending not to notice) he climbed down from the bunk above hers. With his feet on the ground, he looked toward her bed, and the sight up her made his throat tighten. She was curled into the fetal position, her face pressed into the pillow, and her wild hair…well, wild. The blanket was barely covering her and Harry, without much thought, took the two steps toward her bed and crawled in beside her._

 

_Harry wrapped his arms around herm and she immediately latched to him, moving her face from the pillow and burying it in his neck._

 

_“Shhh, it’s okay. It’s okay,” Harry whispered as he smoothed down her hair in a hopefully comforting manner. He had no idea how much time had passed before Hermione quieted down. It could have been hours, but Harry didn’t mind._

 

_Finally, Hermione lifted her face from his neck and looked him straight in the eyes. Searching her face, he could tell that she was changed from before. Maybe even before Ron left them. He’d been too worried about the task at hand and too selfish of his own needs to even think about Hermione. There were dark circles under her eyes and tear stains on her cheeks. There’s the kind of tired that needs a good night’s sleep and another kind of tired where so much more is needed. She was the latter…and if he thought about it, so was he. He was both physically, emotionally, and mentally exhausted._

 

_Shaking his head to clear his head of thoughts of exhaustion, he turned his attention back to Hermione, meeting her eyes._

 

_After several moments, Harry spoke. “I hate to see you like this, Hermione. I wish there were something I could do to help.”_

 

_“This does help, Harry. Holding me, I mean. I feel better already.” She yawned and closed her eyes._

 

_Harry nodded and pressed a kiss to her temple. “We can do this. Just the two of us, you know.”_

 

_“I know, Harry,” Hermione said, cuddling in closer. Harry adjusted their position, moving to his back, pulling Hermione further into his side. She draped her leg over his, intertwining their legs. It surprised him at first, but took it as nothing and closed his eyes, trying to will his brain to shut off so he could fall into a deep sleep. Maybe sleeping together, side by side would be beneficial for them both._

 

_He was once again brought out of his thoughts, but this time not on his own. He felt something soft touch his neck and knew it could only be one thing. He wasn’t a stranger to the feel of lips against his throat._

 

_“Hermione…” he said warningly, one of his hands still frozen on her hip._

 

_She continued her assault on his neck and groaned. He needed to push her away before they went too far. Neither of them was in the right state of mind for this to happen._

 

_“Hermione,” Harry said again. “We can’t do this.”_

 

_She paused, and Harry felt a sense of relief wash over him. That is until she looked up at him with her big, brown eyes. “Harry, please,” Hermione begged. “Make me forget.” She leaned down toward his ear and placed another kiss right below his ear. “Please.”_

 

_Harry groaned and gave in. Hell, he might regret it later, but he needed her right now as much as she needed him. He wanted to forget the trials and tribulations of his life and of the seemingly unsuccessful journey they were on._

 

_His mouth found hers, and she whimpered into his mouth when he moved his hand from her hip to her thigh and pulled it up further, so it was almost as if she was straddling him, but from the side._

 

_Harry’s hands roamed her body touching and caressing as he deepened the kiss, entwining his tongue with hers. His fingers gripped the bottom of her t-shirt and pulled it up to her neck, breaking the kiss for only a moment to pull it entirely over her head. His lips latched to hers again almost immediately as the shirt now lay forgotten on the floor of the tent._

 

_His hands immediately gravitated toward her breasts, cupping and teasing before pulling away and moving to his knees, adjusting Hermione so that she lay flat on her back._

 

_“You are wearing far too many clothes, Mister Potter,” Hermione giggled, reaching for the bottom of his shirt. She pulled it up to his chest, and Harry pulled it off the rest of the way, leaving his chest bare. Sitting up, Hermione ran her fingers over his chest, stopping at the elastic of his boxers. She looked up at him questioningly, and with a nod of his head, she slowly pushed the boxers down, until his erection was visible. Hermione cupped him in her hands, and he threw his head back and groaned, her soft hands exploring. He could have come right then and there when he felt her breath ghost over the tip. Not wanting to fall apart so easily, he pulled back and pushed her back down onto the bed._

 

_As gracefully as possible, he pushed his boxers the rest of the way down and threw them to the floor as well. Harry crawled up to Hermione and pressed a hard kiss to her swollen lips before beginning the careful assault of her body. Using his mouth and hands, he made his way down her body. The soft sighs and her ragged breathing was like music to his ears. He was devious in the way that he would occasionally reach down and brush his hands over her knickers, teasing her. Each time she tried to clamp her legs together to get his hand to stay, wanting, needing the friction._

 

_“Not yet, my love,” he would whisper. She would whimper every time, the sound growing louder the closer he pushed her to the edge._

 

_Finally, he reached the final barrier between them; her knickers. He brushed his hands over them once more, feeling the wetness that had soaked through. She was on the edge, exactly how he wanted her._

 

_Carefully, he peeled her out of the offending garment, careful not to rip the flimsy material (as he knew their clothes had faced wear and tear over the last few months and were in short supply) in his haste to have her completely nude._

 

_As she lay there, now completely uncovered, Harry couldn’t help but pause and just look. She looked beautiful. Well, he always thought she was beautiful, but this was beauty of another kind. Or maybe it was just lust? He shook his head. They were friends and now lovers. He was feeling far more than lust in this moment._

 

_“Harry?” Hermione asked, looking at him with confusion. He just smiled. “Sorry, I just wanted to look at you for a moment. You’re just so goddamn beautiful, Hermione. I want to make this good for you.”_

 

_“Come here,” she whispered. Harry leaned down over her, propping himself up on his elbows, looking into her eyes._

 

_“I’m not a blushing virgin.” Harry raised his eyebrows at her. He had suspected as much, but wasn’t one to ask such personal questions, even of his best friend. A flush crept onto her cheeks. “Well, not a virgin anyway. Blushing, maybe.”_

 

_“I know, but I still want to make this good for you, Hermione,” Harry whispered into her ear, placing a kiss directly below and several more onto her neck._

 

_Hermione moaned, but choked out, “I’m already so turned on, Harry. Pleaseee.”_

 

_He grinned. “Please what?”_

 

_“Ugh, Harry! Please fuck me!” Hermione all but yelled. Harry just continued to grin as he got up off his elbows and onto his knees once more._

 

_“I will, but not yet. I want you a trembling mess.”_

 

_“I already am!”_

 

_He shook his head and grasped her knees, spreading them apart, exposing her most intimate area. As he lowered his head, he licked his lips seeing how wet she really was. Foreplay probably wasn’t necessary, but it was something he enjoyed doing. He stopped right before he reached her glistening folds and looked up at her. She was looking down at him, her eyes full with anticipation._

 

_“Nobody’s ever —” She was cut off as Harry surged forward and took his first lick between her legs before latching onto her swollen clit, paying it the most attention. He held her lips apart with one hand, while his other palmed his erection. Harry was ready to fuck her like she’d asked, but he was desperate to give her at least one orgasm before. Pre-cum leaking out of his tip and on the edge himself, he re-focused all attention on her. Removing his hand from his erection, he slowly pressed two fingers into her folds. She bucked as he pumped his fingers in and out, mimicking the come hither motion Ginny had taught him many months before in a broom closet of all places._

 

_It wasn’t long before Hermione was putty under his ministrations and called his name as she tightened her fingers in his hair signalling that she was close. Sure enough, moments later, Harry felt her cunt tighten around his fingers and she cried out as she came. As she came down from her orgasm, Harry didn’t waste any time moving above her and lining up to bury himself in her._

 

_“Please,” Hermione whispered, and Harry surged forward —_

 

Harry’s eyes flew open as he awoke right in the best part of the dream. He groaned. He had dreamed of their first time together many times, and he always woke right before he was actually sheathed inside her. He looked down and was unsurprised to see his that his right hand had found its way down to his cock during the dream. Knowing he wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep until he took care of his leaking erection, he swiped over the precum on the tip, spread it over his length, and began to quickly rub himself to completion.

* * *

Hours later Harry apparated to King’s Cross Station to board the Hogwarts Express for his ‘eighth’ and final year at Hogwarts. Technically, it was his seventh as last year had been spent on the run, but there were new seventh years this year, making those who returned from his year the first ever eighth-year class (well, besides Marcus Flint, of course).

 

Unshrinking his trunk from his pocket, he clambered onto the train, feeling a sinking in the pit of his stomach realising this would be his first journey to the school without his beloved snowy white owl. The familiar pain of grief washed over him as he wheeled his trunk through the single corridor of the train. He thoughts on Hedwig and briefly, Hermione, he didn’t notice the many stares he was receiving from those who had already boarded the train as he passed. The stares were accompanied by lots of whispering and pointing. It was probably better that Harry hadn’t noticed. If he had, there was a good chance he would have immediately disembarked, refusing to return to a school or even a city where he was going to be treated as a zoo animal.

 

Harry found an empty compartment shortly after boarding and immediately claimed it as his own. He placed his trunk up on the rack and sat down. Unfortunately, he sat right where he could look out and see those on the platform. And if he could see them, they could see him. He immediately cast a notice-me-not charm on his window, allowing him to sit there without being gawked at. Relief flooded him, but it was short-lived. He hadn’t cast the notice-me-not charm on the entire compartment, and as if she knew he had been thinking about her, Hermione appeared. She bustled into the compartment, placing her things into the rack as well.

 

Harry felt the compartment become rather hot and he slipped off his jumper, leaving him in a plain white tee. He watched as Hermione got settled, gathering a few things she would need for the journey before finally sitting down across from him.

 

She gave him a soft smile that didn’t reach her eyes and seemed almost sad. He refused to speak first and watched as she struggled to make words come out as well. She opened her mouth several times before she shut it for good and looked out the window. Moments later, the train jolted forward, and King’s Cross Station was left behind, rolling hills of green taking its place.

 

The two friends sat in silence for what seemed like hours, but looking down at his watch Harry realised it had been no time at all. He had skillfully avoided Hermione trying to catch his attention for the last twenty minutes. He could see her out of the corner of his eye, sitting on the edge of her seat, her hands clasped in her lap and staring at him with a newfound determination.

 

“Harry, I —“

 

“Hermione, I’d rather just not talk about it, okay? You’ve moved on. It’s fine.”

 

“I —“ Hermione began again. Harry held up his hand.

 

“Really. You don’t need to say anything.”

 

Hermione opened her mouth once more and then shut it again. She nodded and sat back in her seat, pulled a book from her bag and buried her face in it.

 

Harry was relieved. He didn’t want to think about what had happened in the tent. He didn’t want to think about what happened after. He didn’t want to think about that…about them.

 

They were the only two in the compartment, the others not returning or spending time with their other friends. Having the entire left side of the compartment to himself, he laid down and closed his eyes, placing his discarded jumper over his face to block out the sunlight streaming through.

 

“Harry!” a voice shouted. “Wake up! Harry!” Harry woke up, and he noticed right away that the jumper he had used to shield his eyes was no longer there. Instead, Hermione was hovering over him, looking at him with concern.

 

He sat up and slid away from her so that his back was resting against the same wall as the window. She slowly moved back to her side of the compartment and continued to look at him with concern.

 

“What?” Harry asked, looking anywhere but at her.

 

“Well, uhm…” she paused. “You were thrashing about in your sleep and muttering something I couldn’t understand. I thought that you were having a nightmare, so I woke you.”

 

Harry just nodded and looked down at his hands that he had placed on his knees only moments before. He didn’t want to talk, so after willing his hands to stop shaking he reached down to the floor to pick up the fallen jumper. Despite sweating a bit, he pulled it on over his head.

 

Standing up, he walked to the compartment door before turning back toward Hermione. She looked up at him expectantly.

 

“I’m going for a walk,” he told her. He didn’t wait for a response and instead slid the compartment door open and walked out, not looking back.

 

Hermione threw her book across the compartment as soon as Harry was out of sight. Sighing, she immediately picked it up already regretting her treatment of the book and sat back down. She stared at it, running her fingers over the smooth cover. Books were so much less complicated than the real world. When she opened the pages of a book, she could be transported to a world not her own. A world that was much less complicated than the one she was in. But she knew she couldn’t bury her nose in a book and hide from her problems forever. Though, she couldn’t take the blame for that entirely. She had tried to talk to Harry multiple times, and all he did was brush her off. So who could blame her for wanting to escape reality when her reality was currently less than desirable.

 

It all came down to her biggest mistake — running back into Ron’s arms the moment he returned during the Battle of Hogwarts. How could she have been so stupid? He had left them long before Christmas and hadn’t seen him again until that final battle almost six months later. Then she’d gone and kissed him in a moment of terror where she thought she was going to die. She didn’t know what had hurt Harry more —the fact that she had flung herself into Ron’s arms and forgiven him so easily or that she kissed Ron right in front of him after spending months wrapped in his arms.

 

She had regretted it immediately after, realising there was no spark as her lips met Ron’s. It felt nothing compared to the fireworks she felt when Harry pressed his lips against hers. The realisation that the crush that she harboured for the ginger man died when he chose to abandon them months earlier hit her like a ton of bricks. Only it was too late. She turned around to Harry, only to find he was already walking out the door. But when she ran after him, he had disappeared, nowhere to be found.

 

The next time she saw him, he was walking down the steps to the Entrance Hall determined to give himself up to Voldemort. She begged and pleaded with him, but nothing changed his mind. Less than an hour later when she saw him in Hagrid’s arms, she almost didn’t believe her eyes. In that moment, every memory with Harry in it flashed before her eyes in quick succession. She fell to the ground and the scream everyone assumed came from Ginny, came from her instead. Hermione beat her hands into the ruble on the ground so hard, it broke the skin and blood was freely running down her hands. Ron quieted her and pulled her to standing, despite her insistence she wanted to stay where she was and die too.

 

After Harry revealed himself to still be alive and Voldemort was vanquished, Harry came to her and Ron. Ron’s arm had been wrapped around her waist, and Harry hadn’t looked her in the eyes when he said he needed time to sort things out.

 

That had been the last time she saw him until today of course—almost four months to the day. Sure, they had exchanged a few owls but about nothing of significance. Every time she asked to meet, he replied with some excuse of one kind or another. She wasn’t daft. If Harry had responded with an eagerness to meet with her, she would’ve been ecstatic, but surprised. Her doubt that he wouldn’t want to meet didn’t keep her from asking anyway.

 

Harry didn’t return from his walk around the train until the lanterns outside flickered on, signifying they were indeed in Scotland as the sun disappeared and cloudy skies took its place. Moments later, rain hammered against the window. If she wasn’t sure how far north they were, she did now.

 

The rest of the journey passed by quickly despite the silence between the two friends. As they neared Hogwarts, they changed into their robes. The evening passed in a blur. She couldn’t seem to focus on anything—the sorting, the speeches—nothing. Hermione’s mind kept wandering back to one Harry James Potter and how he would ever forgive or want to be with her.

 

That night as she lay in her four-poster, Hermione thought about everything. It had always been Harry. How had she not seen it before she kissed Ron? One mistake that just might haunt her for the rest of her life. With that miserable thought in mind, Hermione drifted off into a fitful sleep, unable to fully rest her mind.

* * *

 

Weeks passed, and Harry continued to cleverly avoid the curly-haired witch he had once trusted with everything. That time had long passed, afraid to even look her in the eyes knowing she was with his longest friend. He had tried all summer to forget the way he felt about her—forcing himself to think sisterly thoughts and failing spectacularly. Who could blame him? He had shared his bed with the witch, fucked her into a state of oblivion, and called her name when he released himself inside her. There was no way in hell he could ever go back to thinking sisterly thoughts about her. He could no longer even call her his friend because she was much more than that. Dare he say it out loud and finally admit it to himself? Nah. Denial sounded much better. He kicked the ground in frustration as he walked around the Black Lake. He was completely and utterly fucked.

 

It just so happened that at the exact moment Harry was walking around the lake that Hermione looked out the window of her dormitory. She quickly grabbed a jumper and attempted to pull it on over her head as she ran down the stairs and into the common room.

 

The shared eighth-year common room was practically empty except for a fellow eighth year bent over a piece of parchment, scribbling away. The tall blonde girl was Daphne Greengrass whom Hermione had become great friends with over the last few months.

 

She raised her eyebrow as Hermione stumbled into the common room, only halfway into her jumper.

 

“You’ll freeze outside in just that,” the blonde told her, smirking as Hermione righted her jumper and pulled her hair out from underneath it.

 

“How—How did you…know?” Hermione finally said, stumbling over her words.

 

“How did I know?” Daphne asked. Hermione nodded.

 

“You and Potter have been skirting around each other for weeks. I saw him leave the castle after lunch. I was hoping you’d notice.”

 

The girl turned back to whatever she was working on without saying another word. Hermione stared at the girl for a few short moments with a note of confusion, but she shouldn’t have been surprised. Daphne always seemed to sense things others didn’t.

 

Daphne looked back up at her. “Well? What are you waiting for? He isn’t going to stay out there forever! Go after him!”

 

Hermione didn’t need telling twice. She took off at a run out of the portrait hole, down several flights of stairs before pushing the doors to the Entrance Hall open. The cold air instantly seeped through her jumper, chilling her through to the bone. Gritting her teeth, Hermione sprinted across the grounds down to the Black Lake where she had spotted Harry only minutes before.

 

Seeing him down by the water, halted Hermione in her tracks. Taking a deep breath, she slowly walked toward him. She stopped once more, only a few feet away. Staring out over the lake, she gasped having forgotten how beautiful the grounds were at this time of year. Her eyes travelled over the lake and over the tops of the trees before finally landing back on Harry.

 

As if he sensed she was there, he turned. “Hermione?”

 

“Harry,” she whispered.

 

“What are you doing out here? You’re going to freeze in just that,” he told her, walking towards her.

 

Hermione just shook her head. She was starting to lose her nerve and tears slowly fell out of the corner of her eyes on onto her cheeks as stopped in front of her. Trying to hide her tears she refused to look Harry in the eyes, instead choosing to stare at the ground.

 

“Hermione,” she heard him say. “Please look at me.”

 

Hermione lifted her head and saw the pain she felt etched upon his face. That’s when she lost it. Sobs wracked her body, but when he tried to move closer to comfort her, she was coherent enough to step away.

 

At his confused look, she felt a bit of anger rise up inside her. She blindly wiped the tears away on her cheeks with the sleeve of her jumper.

 

“No!” she shouted, only a notch away from what could be considered screaming. “You don’t get to comfort me when you’ve been avoiding me since The Battle of Hogwarts almost six months ago! I try to talk to you, and you just ignore me or make excuses. I’m tired of it, Harry Potter! I want some goddamn answers because I know I cannot handle another minute of —”

 

But Hermione never got to say what she couldn’t handle another minute of because Harry at that moment had pulled her to him and pressed his lips against hers. It was just as she remembered from all those months ago in the tent. It sent a tingle down to her toes, and it felt as if her brain was going to overfire from extreme amounts of oxytocin being released.

 

His lips weren’t soft, almost cracked from the cold or lack of chapstick. Probably both, Hermione thought humorously. But she didn’t care. It was far from the perfect kiss, and that’s what it made it so perfect. Pulling away from the kiss Hermione sighed and wrapped her arms around Harry’s middle, resting her head on his chest.

 

Harry kissed the top of her head and wrapped one hand in her hair while the other moved up and down her back.

 

“I’m sorry,” Harry whispered.

 

“I’m sorry too.” Hermione pulled away a bit to look up at Harry. “I love you.”

 

Harry just smiled sadly, the corners of his mouth barely turning up. “What about Ron?” he asked.  

 

Hermione frowned at his question. “What about him?”

 

Harry frowned right back at her response and opened his mouth several times before speaking. “Well, you guys are together, and I just kissed you, so where does that put us?”

 

“Let me stop you right there, Harry,” Hermione said, pulling fully away from him, but still at arm's length. “Ron and I were never together.”

 

Hermione stopped and let that sink it before she continued. “After I kissed Ron in that old unused classroom, I immediately realised it had been a mistake. If I am honest with myself, as soon as my lips touched his, I knew it was going to be one of the biggest mistakes of my life. One that would haunt me for the rest of my lonely and miserable life.” She looked down after finishing, allowing him the time he needed to respond without the pressure of her intense stare.

 

She looked back up at Harry when he started to speak, “You’d never be lonely Hermione. You’re smart and beautiful and kind. Someone would have snatched you up. I know that for a fact.” He might have thought that the case, but even as he said it, she could tell it was paining him to do so. Seeing her with someone else would always spark a sort of jealousy even if it dulled over time. If you asked her if seeing Harry with another girl would affect her similarly, she wouldn’t hesitate in saying it would.

 

“Maybe so,” Hermione continued, biting her lip. “But I wouldn’t have been able to love him like he loved me.” She shook her head and gave a sad little laugh. “I gave my heart away to you a long time ago. Long before I even realised I had. Sometimes you just don’t come back from something like that. I like to believe that you’d always have a piece of my heart even if we’d gone on with our lives never speaking again.”

 

Hermione just stared at Harry watching a plethora of emotions cross his face, one never staying on his face long enough for her to recognise it. He just continued to stare at her, apparently mulling over the novel she had just spoken. But with each passing moment, Hermione was becoming impatient, almost frustrated at the lack of response. She knew it was a lot to take in — she did! But she wished he was just say something...anything.

 

“Harry, please. Say something,” she whispered.

 

“I’m sorry, Hermione,” Harry told her. “And I—” Hermione wasn’t listening after the first five words. His tone suggested he was telling her that he was sorry, but couldn’t forgive her for the mistake she had made. Tears streamed down her face once more, and she turned to walk away.

 

An arm grabbed her just as she turned. “Hermione, where are you going?” Harry asked. Hermione just shook her head and stared at the ground in defeat, refusing to turn and look at him.

 

“Goddammit woman, talk to me!” Harry swore angrily. “I just professed my love for you, and you turn away like it’s the last thing you wanted to hear. I thought that —”

 

Hermione swung around. “What did you just say?” she asked, interrupting him.

 

“Did you not listen to anything I said, Hermione?” Harry huffed exasperatedly. “I love you, you daft woman! Despite everything that has happened everything between us, I forgive you because I love you so fucking much. So much it hurts sometimes. I don’t—I don’t know what else you want me to say.” Harry shook his head.

 

Hermione threw herself at Harry, pressing her face into his neck, the tears falling freely once more. Harry was more confused than ever with a crying woman in his arms that was ready to walk away from him only moments before.

 

Finally, Hermione pulled away. “I love you too, Harry.” They smiled at each other like goons in love before another cold wind whipped passed them.

 

“Maybe we should go inside, I hadn’t realised how cold I am until now, and a warming charm would be useless at this point.”

 

Harry nodded his head, and they ran back up to the warmth of the castle hand in hand. He wasn’t sure about Hermione’s plans for the rest of the afternoon, but he had every intention of reacquainting himself with every single part of her body.

 

Hermione wasn’t opposed.


End file.
